


Nothing Much

by iamisaac



Category: malory towers
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2015-11-20
Packaged: 2018-05-02 13:53:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5250578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamisaac/pseuds/iamisaac





	Nothing Much

Darrell looked down at the massed pages of cramped handwriting and then smiled across at Sally. 

“I still can't quite believe it, you know,” she said. “That I'm getting someone else to type this all up. It seems an outrageous way to spend money.”

Sally laughed. “It's one of the trials of being a successful authoress, Darrell. You're needed for other things – writing your next book, or doing signings. Anyway, I'm sure it'll be a nice change not to spend hours on the typewriter.”

“It will, of course,” admitted Darrell. “But it still feels strange. Well, wish me luck!” 

And she walked, slightly nervously, into the typing office.

“Good morning.” The middle aged lady on the front desk looked at her enquiringly.

“Hello.” Darrell smiled. “I phoned before. I'm Delores Grant – Darrell Rivers, really, but Delores is my pen name – and you said that you'd got someone who would be able to type up my manuscript for me.”

The lady pushed her glasses further up her nose and consulted a piece of paper in front of her. “Oh yes. I see. If you go to room 2, one of my girls will see to it for you.”

“Thank you.” Darrell walked through to knock politely on door 2, a small, dark cubby-hole of a room.

“Hello?” The girl who opened the door had short blonde hair tied back neatly and firmly into place. She wore a black skirt and a white blouse, equally neat, but both of which had clearly seen better days. “Is this the new work?”

“Yes. I'm...” Darrell stopped suddenly, her mouth falling open with shock. “Gwendoline?” she whispered. “Gwen?”

The girl's voice shook slightly as she replied.”Hello, Darrell.”

“But...” Darrell could do nothing but stare.

“Come in,” said Gwen hastily, closing the door behind them. 

She looked paler than Darrell remembered her, and considerably thinner. Both things suited her, in Darrell's opinion: she had always been quite nice looking (and all too aware of it) but now she was positively pretty. But the change was in the girl herself. The Gwendoline Darrell remembered would never have deigned to have the short, practical haircut of this woman; would certainly never ever have shown herself in such dowdy, worn, clothes.

“I've thought of you a lot since...” Gwendoline took the manuscript out of Darrell's arms and turned away to place it next to her typewriter. “...since I left Malory Towers.” She smiled weakly. “It seems like another life.”

“Yes,” agreed Darrell mechanically.

“How are you?” Gwendoline added. “Are you still in touch with anyone from school?”

“Sally – Mary-Lou – Alicia. Sally's living with me and working as a history lecturer. Mary-Lou's nursing, of course. Alicia hasn't really settled to anything, but she's still driving everyone nuts by doing whatever she fancies at the time better than anyone else.”

“That sounds like Alicia,” agreed Gwen. “And you're Delores Grant, then. You always did like writing.”

“What happened?” Darrell hadn't meant to ask, but it had slipped out.

“You remember I wrote to you, later?” Gwen looked down at her hands, the right one with a plain gold ring on the middle finger. “Father – Father's died since then. Mother... we'd spent every penny we had on treatment for him, and Mother has never been... she's never needed a job. So I got this.” She smiled ruefully. “It isn't much, but then _I'm_ nothing much, never have been. We get by.”

“Gwen, I'm sorry.” Darrell's sympathy was open and real.

“I was too, for a while.” Gwendoline twisted the ring around her finger thoughtfully. “The funny thing is, though” - she gave a little laugh - “I think I'm happier now than I ever was when I had everything. I used to have everything I wanted given to me the moment I asked, and I still wasn't happy. Now, when a cake with my cup of tea is my idea of a high treat... it's strange, but at last I'm content. I'll enjoy typing your novel for you, Darrell, but I wouldn't swap places, and I'm glad for your success.”

“Thanks,” said Darrell briefly. She turned to leave. “One thing, though, Gwendoline. I like you a lot better now than I did at school.”

Gwendoline smiled ruefully. “So do I.”


End file.
